


After New York

by SavannahWest



Series: Inevitible [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Rocketman (2019), Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 20:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavannahWest/pseuds/SavannahWest
Summary: The tension in the room is palpable. It is nerves glossed with excitement. It’s an ever present passion that usually flickers but has been given permission to burn.Taron looks up in to your eyes; see’s your curious expression. “Would you like to see me fuck Richard, baby? He’s desperate for it…look at him”.They kiss languidly, slow and sweet and dirty. It’s years of affection and lust and love, in a few beats of time.Months after your first encounter in New York, Richard and Taron finally explore their feelings, with your gleeful enthusiasm and support.





	After New York

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Inevitable.
> 
> I had no solid plans to extend the story and then 10,000 words appeared.
> 
> If you enjoy, please let me know :-)

_Toronto – September._

September in Toronto was pleasantly mild in the evenings. You wait on the balcony as Taron finishes getting dressed; he was caught up replying to emails and rearranging meetings so you had a head start. You suspect his hair was perfect 10 minutes ago and he’s spent each minute since checking it from every angle just in case. You smile lightly, revelling in the fresh air and the quiet afforded to you from your balcony high above the city.

Your dress is midnight blue satin, expensive and very much on loan. The designer even sent a stylist to help you dress and look presentable for the carpet and you suspect Tarons publicist called in that particular favour. Tarons own stylist left a while ago once he was satisfied the suit Taron is wearing fit to perfection. You can happily attest to that, you needed the fresh air for more than just the peace and quiet, it wouldn’t do to get too riled up before such a public event. Taron had offered you a knowing smirk when he caught you giving him a thorough once over, your eyes undressing him as his stylist did his best to do the opposite.

“Ready love?” Taron asks, his head peeping out though the partially open sliding door. He offers his hand and you take it as he pulls you back in to the room.

The premier awaits. Richard awaits. You close the door behind you.

***

_A few months earlier_

Things were different after New York. It was inevitable.

Richard flew back to L.A and back to Brandon. He never told you if Brandon had officially given his blessing, and you didn’t ask. You did ask him why he’d disappeared back to his room after the bar; you wondered if it had been to call Brandon, or if it had just been a momentary feeling of doubt.

He’d responded in his usual matter of fact way, accentuated by his rough Scottish brogue “No love, I just went to get the lube”. You’d laughed at that. Laughed for so long, in both relief and shocked amusement that he’d asked you if you were ok.

You three exchanged tender goodbyes. It wasn’t awkward but it was quiet. Your bodies had expressed everything that had been unsaid. You smiled a bit when Richard kissed Taron full on the mouth, only a peck but lasting just long enough to express intent; a promise of next time. You placed your hand in front of your mouth to hide your quiet laugh at Tarons uncomfortable blush as he darted his eyes to his feet. Rich chuckled and closed the door behind him with a final wave.

When Taron looked at you it was with a sheepish smile followed by a big inhalation of breath. Nice to know you weren’t the only one who lost their head a bit around those dreamy blue eyes and that smoky Scottish accent; you could still taste Richard’s coffee on your lips from your slightly less chaste good bye kiss.

“Right then” Taron says. “Fancy a cuddle and a nap before the car gets here?” He holds out his hand.

You did fancy that. Taron leads you back towards the bed.

***

You’re on the cusp of sleep when Taron’s voice interrupts the silence of the room “We’re not…we’re not gonna do that every time we see each other now, are we?” He asks quietly. It jolts you out of your reverie; you were deep in to your pre-nap cuddle and not expecting conversation of any kind.

You take a few seconds before you reply, thinking carefully about your answer “No” You say and you’re sure of it. “I think it was…maybe not a one off but maybe an every so often thing?” You say this as a question. You suppose you needed the after talk as much as you needed the before talk. “Christ I wouldn’t be able to walk” you add trying to lighten the moment.

“Shit, we didn’t hurt you did we? I mean I know you enjoyed it. Fuck I don’t think I’ve ever felt you come that hard, I certainly haven’t come that hard, but I know we weren’t exactly gentle” Taron says, his voice laced with concern and a hint of awe.

“God no” You say quickly. “Well, a bit, but in the best way”.

Taron laughs lightly, relieved. He knows when to be concerned and when there isn’t need. He knows you.

“Ok” he says. “And yeah, I think maybe we need a little break for a while. That was a lot. It is a lot.” His voice gets quieter towards the end and you know he still feels conflicted about his attraction to Richard. Cuddling is easy, lust is complicated.

“Let’s just get back to normality for a while” You say, stifling a yawn. The car isn’t due to take you to the airport for another couple of hours. You need a nap.

“Sounds good to me” Taron says before dropping a light kiss on your forehead and closing his eyes.

***

After arriving home in London and exchanging the obligatory “Finally home!” whatsapp messages, you and Richard didn’t speak for a while. You don’t think he and Taron spoke either. You each settled back in to your own routines, Richard with his new life and work in L.A. and you and Taron back in London with work and life and the normal mix of fun and the mundane.

Months go by before you see each other again. Its time for Taron to promote a movie he wrapped last year and the last couple of weeks have been press and premieres. He did the multi-city tour alone with his co-stars and team but you agreed to go to the London premiere tonight; Richard will be there. He’s recently back in London to film a new movie, it’s time to raise his profile on home soil for a while.

***

The red carpet is busy, so many people milling around; you wonder who they all are. Some of them look like they know what they’re doing, like they have a purpose, others like you, are just stood around, waiting and watching; craning their necks to see the next super star to arrive. You’re trying to stay hidden, away from the cameras. You wish you were inside; there’s a chill in the air. The dress you’re wearing is borrowed from Ralph Lauren. They dressed Taron tonight. It’s black and beautiful and fairly low key. It’d be boring if not for the delicate accents of lace. Taron likes you in colour but in situations like this, you’ll do anything not to stand out. He understands. It’s easier that way.

You shiver lightly, willing him to hurry up. ‘_Baby stop being so charming, just answer the questions_’ you think to yourself, he’s never quite mastered concise. Suddenly there’s a warmth around your shoulders and you look up in to Richards sky blue eyes as he appears at your side, huddling in close, his scent enveloping you. He’s placed his suit jacket around your shoulders. The stark white of his shirt looks crisp and clean, makes the colour of his eyes pop.

“You look freezing, love” he says quietly, a whisper in to your ear. He’s so casual. Like the last time you saw him wasn’t 4 months ago after he’d been inside you in the most intimate of ways, like the last time he saw you he hadn’t left you breathless at the door with the taste of coffee and French toast on your tongue.

_Causal it is then_, you think and you take a moment to look at him properly. He looks beautiful, in his perfectly fitted suit and his not-quite-yet-a-beard stubble gracing his jaw and around his kissable mouth. You’ve missed his voice, his soft Scottish lilt that gets stronger and rougher the more drinks he’s had, everything he says sounding like a promise of something more. He smells delicious too (very expensive aftershave, you don’t know which kind) and his arm is strong and firm around your shoulder pulling you in; like he can’t stand not being as close to you as possible. He’s what your mother would call ‘a bit of a dish’. The definition of an understatement.

You lean in to him for a full and proper hug. He hugs you back fiercely, lifting you up on to your tip toes, his mouth at your neck breathing you in. It’s been too long.

You step back reluctantly.

“I’m so cold Rich, why would they do this outside? It’s cruel” You say with a teasing tone. You don’t mind really, you love watching Taron work. He’s in his element, exercising the charm that doesn’t bowl you over like it used to; especially not when he’s trying to get out of cleaning the kitchen. It still affects you of course, you’ve just had to build up resilience to it or you’d both be living in squalor.

Richard hums in agreement. You cuddle in to his side and he wraps his arm around your waist bringing you in even tighter. It’s not news, how close you are, so it won’t raise any more eyebrows than usual. The media still teases sometimes, on a slow news week, tries to imply maybe there’s something more. They don’t know how close to the truth they are sometimes. It helps now Richard lives in L.A. and you aren’t papped together in London every few weeks.

“Did I mention that you look fucking stunning?” He asks quietly, his cheek grazes yours as he leans down close to your ear dropping a light kiss at the top of your jaw line after he speaks. It wouldn’t do for Entertainment Tonight to pick up on your little chat.

You shiver again, this time maybe not from the cold. “Thank you” You reply meeting his eyes. “You don’t look so bad yourself” You say again, a bit breathless at how close he is. Honestly, between him and Taron tonight you don’t know how you’re functioning like you are.

“Fuckable?” he asks with a cheeky grin on his face. He’s moved his face away to look you in the eyes. He does it on purpose of course, to see you blush. Little shit. You can play this game too.

“Very.” You say firmly, looking at him from the toes of his solid black boots up to the tips of his artfully styled hair, his grey streak out in full force. “But not as fuckable as Taron” You add, grinning. Richard barks back a laugh. He probably agrees.

“Who’s not as fuckable as me?” You hear Taron ask as he appears through the small group of people in front of you. _Finally!_ You think, immediately untangling yourself from Richard and pressing yourself close to Tarons side. You missed him.

“Rich. Just telling him how handsome he looks” You say to Taron honestly. Taron pouts, a fake sulk. “But not as gorgeous as you, obviously” You add, lifting his fake frown in to a smile with your fingertips. Taron laughs. Richard laughs.

“Obviously” Taron agrees. He gives Richard a cursive once over. “But yeah, not bad mate” He adds, laughter spilling from all of you.

Taron leans in to hug Richard firmly. He’s seen him a couple of times over the last few months when he’s been on the press circuit so their reunion isn’t as long awaited, they’ve managed to have dinner in L.A. when Taron’s been visiting for work, with Brandon and with some of Richards other new L.A. friends_. “They’re alright” Taron had reported back to you not unkindly, “Not as good as us though obviously” he’d added with a smile. _

You all turn to walk inside, in to the heated foyer of the cinema. Richard walks ahead, looking around for his team. Taron leans down and whispers in your ear “No one here is as fuckable as you, baby” He says quietly. You shiver at his words, then a wry smile. You’ve just seen Angelina Jolie walk by so you’re not sure that’s quite true, but you appreciate it non-the-less.

***

Its later, several glasses of Champagne later, the after party is in full swing and it’s you and Richard again, sat on a cushioned bench at a corner table. You’re both watching Taron as he flits from group to group, chatting and laughing. He looks over at you every few minutes, making sure you’re ok. You did the rounds with him earlier, meeting everyone who needed to be met. Polite and charming and funny in your own way. Taron knew you needed a break and was happy to let you set yourself up in a cosy corner, watching the party. You gave Richard his jacket back ages ago, its strewn over the back of one of the chairs nearby. Dior won’t be too mad at him if it’s a bit soiled. With odds at 2:1 as the new Bond, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

“He’s in his element eh?” Richard speaks for the first time in a while. You detect a hint of envy in his voice. Richard has to play this game too but it doesn’t come as easily; there’s no inherent joy in it for him, only nerves mixed with a bit of excitement, after all, it’s still a bit fun sometimes, having everyone fawn over you.

“I wish I could be better at it for him” You say. You’re not trying to be melancholy, it’s just a fact. You wish you could play the role of the consummate girlfriend, charm every suit you come in to contact with. Contribute your tiny piece of the puzzle of getting Taron to where he wants to be.

“Nah” Richard says easily. “You’re exactly what he needs” He emphasises the word exactly and you look at him, a question on your face.

“He needs someone to keep him grounded. Not some fluff piece who wants to ride his coat tails. You’re so good for him. He loves you so much” He says kindly.

You know it’s true. It’s been years now and you’ve been through a lot. You feel stable, safe; if anything stable exists in this world. You’re his ride or die, you joke sometimes. In times when you feel a bit insecure because whatever actress he’s filming with at that moment is exquisite and you’re certain she’s wondering what the fuck he’s doing with you.

“You’re lovely” You say equally as kind. Richard is a sweet boy wrapped up in a movie star aesthetic.

“I love him too you know” He says quietly. And you do know. It’s in his every touch, his every smile. “And I love you” He adds seriously. “I love you both and I love you both more than I should, I think. More than is decent” He can’t quite meet your eyes. He probably wishes he hadn’t had that second whisky, and that fourth glass of champagne.

“We love you too” You say after a pause, before adding “Probably more than we should”. You look at him then and find his eyes are shining back at you. You’re confident enough to speak for Taron on this matter. New York wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just fantasy fulfilment. It was love.

“I’m going to make the move to L.A permanent I think” He says and the words hit you in the chest; knock the wind out of you. You don’t speak; just stare at his face, mouth opening and closing infinitesimally like a fish. You knew it was a possibility. He’s needed there more and more now, but you’d hoped. You’d just hoped.

“Oh” You manage to reply quietly.

“Things with Brandon are…serious” He says, his face searching yours for a reaction. “I love him, too” He says.

You’re silent for a few moments, forming and disregarding sentences in your mind until finally, one sticks. “I’m so happy for you Rich” You say and the truth of it coats your every word. “We fucking miss you though” You add. More truth. Richard nods and takes a sip from his glass.

You’re quiet again for a few minutes, both of your eyes trained on Taron as he’s speaking to a small group of people over near the bar, gesticulating wildly as they laugh at whatever he’s saying. He has their rapt attention; one of them is a director he’s been desperate to work with for years, you hope this is a good sign.

“It’s still there isn’t it?” Richard asks suddenly. “I thought the feeling might go away or at least fade once we’d…you know” He says quickly. “But it hasn’t really, I saw you tonight and you took my breath away. I see you both together and…well, I can’t tell you what I thought” He says with a curl to his lips. He’s teasing.

You feel a bit breathless yourself. He’s right. “No it hasn’t, but I’ll be honest, it’s been easier with you being in L.A.” You say and Richard nods in agreement.

Distance had dulled the pulsing lust between you, only for it to return full throttle as soon as you saw each other again. Memories of New York flood both your memories; you feel your heart rate increase.

“New York was…” Richard starts.

“Fucking incredible?” you offer. You both laugh.

“Yes, fuck it was, the best. So fucking hot” He says lowly. His fingers brush against yours. You grab his hand fully; hold it tightly with your own in your lap. You don’t particularly give a fuck what people think at the moment.

“So hot” You agree. Your thighs rub together unconsciously.

“Brandon’s coming tomorrow” Richard says suddenly, effectively breaking the tension. It’s a welcome distraction in the form of unwelcome news. “He’s going to stay in London while I’m filming. We’ve taken a flat near the studio. So...I won’t be around much, between filming and Brandon and that. Mum and Dad want me home too so I’ll be up to Scotland a lot”. No time for a repeat of New York is what isn’t said out loud.

You nod. Of course, it’s what’s right, and you know Taron would agree.

You’re still so curious though “Does Brandon know? About New York?” You ask.

“Aye” Richard says. “I mean we haven’t discussed it in detail, I wouldn’t...” He says looking at you and you know he means he’d never break your trust that way. It was private, just for the three of you.

You nod for him to continue. You understand.

“But like, he knew something had happened, I was a bit different. You know, a bit different wi’ him too” He says pausing briefly as if to gather his thoughts “Fuck I think I was hard for a full week afterwards” He laughs and you join in.

Once you’d had time to recover you and Taron certainly found yourselves connecting a bit more than usual. Or as Taron described it _“I think we’ve banged on every square inch of the flat, we definitely need a softer carpet”. _You smile at the memory.

“And he doesn’t mind?” You ask.

“Nah, he has…his own friends…sometimes” Richard says and smirks at the shocked look on your face.

“Modern romance” He shrugs. And you suppose you can’t argue with that.

_ ***_

It’s almost three months later and the press for the latest film is long done. Its sitting at 91% on Rotten Tomatoes and you can’t ask for much more than that. There’s a lull in Taron’s day to day activity while he waits for the next project to start, a time for him to rest. You left him 13 hours ago when you left for your shift. He was sat on the couch, yawning. He waved you off when you told him to go back to bed.

“‘M’ fine love, wanted to see you for a bit before you go” He said. You kissed him goodbye. Told him you’d see him later and could he please do some laundry today? He nodded, eyes half closed. He was asleep again before you reached the lift.

When you get home you find him approximately two inches to the right of where you left him this morning. He’s wearing a fresh pair of sweat pants and a new t-shirt so you at least know he’s moved at some point. The television is on low but he’s half asleep, barely watching. He hears you open the door and it jerks him in to full consciousness.

“Hi Baby!” He greets you warmly and his smile is infectious. You smile back.

“Hey” you say softly. You’d love to flop on the couch for a cuddle but you didn’t get a break and you have other priorities. “Is there any food? I’m starving”

“Yeah let me get you some, baby, go get in to bed, I’ll bring it to you” He says getting up off the couch.

You smile gratefully, accepting a peck on the lips before leaving him to it and escaping to your bedroom.

Showered and fed you lie in bed scrolling through your phone. Richard sent you a few funny memes today on Instagram and you’re sending laughing emojis in reply. He’s been back in L.A. for a couple of weeks; you managed to see him more than you thought while he was filming in London, a quick dinner here and there, and a couple of longer ones too. All with Taron and Brandon and a sprinkling of other friends all just as keen to see Richard while he was back home. You had decided that maybe Brandon wasn’t so bad after all. They were cute together, you couldn’t argue with that and to Brandon’s credit he didn’t try to make anyone uncomfortable considering the result of your previous meeting, though you suspect Richard had given him a stern talking to about appropriate conversation topics.

“Rich called me today” Taron says, looking up from his own phone.

“Oh yeah” You say, stretching your toes out under the bed sheet, your feet ache and you’re hoping Taron will give you a foot massage later if you ask sweetly. The windows are wide open letting in a cool breeze. It’s been raining on and off all day but it’s still warm.

“Yeah he just wanted to catch up, says he’s missing London and its random weather already, sick of all the bloody sunshine” Taron says with a smile. Richard was a true Scot at heart.

Taron places his phone on the bedside table and continues “He was…he was wondering if you’d be coming to Toronto in September for the festival?” Taron asks, a note of caution in his voice, like he’s nervous to speak the words.

“Yeah should be, work said I can have the time off” You say not looking up from your phone. Not quite putting two and two together. It was a long day.

“Brandon won’t be there” Taron says with a bit more emphasis and it suddenly clicks.

Oh. “Oh” you say out loud.

This is unexpected. After your conversation with Richard at the premier months ago you’d all but put it out of your mind. Brandon was a near constant presence the few times when Richard was around and you weren’t sure where Taron stood on the matter these days. You’d all but gone back to sweet safe denial.

The room was suddenly a lot hotter than just moments ago and you kick away the sheet freeing your legs from its confines. You look over at Taron, it’s easy to catch the growing lust in his eyes, and watch as his gaze travels up your bare legs to your t-shirt clad torso and up to your slightly blushing face.

“It’s just…if you wanted to...” He says calmly, like it isn’t the most loaded sentence he’s spoken in months.

His hand travels lightly up your thigh; fingers drawing light circles on your skin that make you shiver. It’s definitely gotten hotter in here. You feel wetness pooling between your legs and if his fingers explore any higher he’ll feel it. You squirm a bit.

“I want to” You say simply, holding his gaze, biting your lip.

“Yeah?” He asks softly.

“Yeah...” You reply, covering his hand with yours, taking it to press down over your pussy, sometimes you have to lead the horse to water. “We should probably…” You say, a bit breathless, willing him to stop teasing and give you what you need.

“Yeah” He agrees, finally taking control and rolling properly over you, his free arm holding himself above you as the other one finds its way in to your underwear and all that awaits. You both moan.

September then. It can’t come soon enough.

***

_August_

“Have you ever thought about it, being with a man?” You ask quietly, you feel him freeze a little bit beside you, not expecting to have the conversation now. You speak again before he has time to answer “Do you think this time…you and Rich might?” You leave the sentence hanging in the air unfinished like a stray thread.

You think Taron needs to have this conversation with you out loud, you’re sure he’s had it with you inside the safe confines of his mind a million times.

Taron lets out a deep breath beside you. It’s late. You’re both snuggled together on the couch, tired from the day but too lazy to move and actually go to bed. The TV has been on mute for the last hour while you both absently watch the moving images go by, not caring enough to turn the sound back on.

You know he doesn’t really want to talk about this but he has to for his sake, and for Richard’s sake and your own. September, and your trip to Toronto, is fast approaching and you’re on tenterhooks wondering what will happen.

While you’re definitely not opposed to a repeat of last time, the memory still at the top of your rotation list when you’re forced to amuse yourself when Tarons away, you don’t want them to miss out on exploring their feelings the way you’ve been able to. Though frankly, and a little selfishly, you don’t want to miss out on seeing it either.

“A bit, not seriously, not like…generally” He says ignoring your comment about him and Richard. “I love tits too much” He says joking, and there it is, his go to defence mechanism. Yours too, you suppose, you’re alike in that way.

You smile at him indulgently but press on. “Rich wants to fuck you” You say softly, as if he’s an injured animal you’re trying not to scare away.

Taron moves a bit beside you and speaks again “Yeah I know. He… well he’s not subtle is he” He says, he smiles. It’s affectionate.

“I don’t know what I want to do though” He says again. “I’ve never wanted a man, like that before, you know?” He sinks back deeper in to the couch like the weight of what he’s just said was pushing him down in to the cushions. He doesn’t look at you as you keep your eyes trained on his face.

You do know. You know this is new and terrifying for him. “Maybe you should speak to Rich, lay out some ground rules?” You say, trying to find a way to ease his nerves. “You know you like doing that” You add with a wink, referencing the very serious stipulations he set out prior to your last encounter.

He hums in agreement before screwing his face up in mild distaste and you wonder what’s just crossed his mind.

“But like…god he’s so hairy though and like…how do you deal with that?” He says, the serious look on his face making laughter spill out of you. Taron laughs too.

Modern romance, you think.

***

_September – Toronto_

The tension in the room is palpable. It is nerves glossed with excitement. It’s an ever present passion that usually flickers but has been given permission to burn.

You waited until after the festival, until after the press obligations and the appearances, until you were all free to relax. That’s added to the tension, to the expectation; being around each other every day but at the same time just out of reach. Your duties have been light of course; you’ve attended the pre-determined events and parties with Taron and behaved in the way his publicist expects, requested. She still hasn’t quite forgiven you for being caught inhaling smoke right out of Richards mouth all that time ago, his hands holding you dangerously low on your hips; to be honest she has a point, and you’re lucky it was just photographs and not video because those hands did not stay as still as they looked in the Daily Mail the next day.

Richard has done the heavy lifting this week; his new film has premiered to solid reviews and his publicist had told him in no uncertain terms that Brandon should stay in L.A. The rumours were getting strong now and frankly you think she’d pay for more photos of you and Richard groping each other just to alleviate the pressure. You think if their respective PR teams knew the truth their heads might explode, though you’re sure they could put the right spin on it if they needed to.

At the hotel you were better prepared this time. You knew Richard would turn up at the pre-arranged time so you’d brought a black lacy negligee that you knew they’d both go nuts over, but of course as soon as you’d put it on in the bathroom while Taron and Richard chatted over vodka rocks and whisky straight, respectively, you’d immediately felt ridiculous and put your dress back on before calmly returning to the main room, fresh faced but fully dressed.

Richard had been out on the balcony to smoke three times in the 25 minutes he’d been here and you knew he was probably the most nervous out of all of you. You don’t know if he and Taron had had the chat you suggested, knowing Taron you doubted it. He generally preferred to wing it in matters that came to him; but you assumed the same rules applied as to what Taron was comfortable with regarding you and Richard.

Walking from the bathroom, past the decadently adorned bed and over to the lounge area where they sat, you walk past Taron sat on the couch and straight to Richard in the arm chair before sitting down sideways in his lap, the light fabric skirt of your dress floating easily around you with the movement.

Catching him by surprise he quickly places his glass down on the side table before it spills, placing a strong hand on your thighs to steady you.

“Hi” You say simply, stroking the side of his face with your hand.

“Hello love” He says back, a wide smile decorating his handsome face.

You hear Taron shift on the couch, can see him out of the corner of your eye. He stays silent, waiting. He likes to watch.

You lean towards Richard slowly, his eyes scanning your face as you continue closer before finally your lips settle against his and you kiss him gently. That’s all it takes and then he’s kissing you back less gentle, more need. His arms circle your waist pulling you closer to him, a light groan leaves his lips along with some of the pent up tension he’s been feeling all week.

You kiss each other soundly, deeply, lavishly. It’s been a long time since you’ve kissed each other like this, without eyes or expectations, without chastity. You enjoy it; you don’t know how long it’ll be before you can do it again, if you will ever do it again.

You break the kiss to briefly to stand up and adjust your position so you’re straddling him, one knee on either side of his strong thighs in the plush arm chair. You feel his cock hardening against your core; you slide yourself forward, seeking more friction. His groan deepens to a rumble in his throat; his hands wander more forcefully up your back finding the top of the zipper of your dress situated at the base of your neck. He glides it down, it sounds obscene in the quiet of the room.

Before he runs it all the way down to the bottom of your back you’re in motion, lifted suddenly as he moves up out of the chair. His strength taking your breath away as he lifts you easily, or so it seems, and stands up with one arm firmly under your bottom, you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, your arms clinging around his neck so you don’t fall.

He walks you the short distance to the large bed, placing you gently down before crawling over you as you move yourself backwards towards the head board, your head landing on the fluffy softness of the pillows. His shirt is open to the middle of his chest and your fingers play with the remaining closed buttons, trying to open them with shaking hands.

Richard takes pity on you and sits up on his knees, deftly unbuttoning the rest of this shirt before shrugging it off and casting it to the side, unveiling the rest of his beautiful chest adorned generously with wiry dark hairs, you reach out to run your hands over the muscled expanse, fingertips trying to memorise every inch. He lets out a shudder at your gentle exploration and you allow your hands to wander lower, over his belly button and delicately down the trail of hair leading downwards under the waist band of his trousers.

You can see and feel his hard cock straining against the thin fabric of his dress trousers; losing yourself you reach greedily for his fly, desperate to release what’s underneath. His hands stop yours in their motion and he takes over again, slowly opening each button one at a time.

While Richard finishes unbuttoning you find yourself again and look around for Taron in the expanse of the room, you notice he has moved himself to the side of the bed, he’s sitting calmly and quietly in the chair he moved there earlier in the day. You’d looked at him questioningly when he’d moved it over from the dressing table and placed it facing the bed, he’d graced you with a trade mark wink _“For later_” He’d said and you’d shivered lightly.

It made sense now, a viewing platform, giving the seated person a direct and perfect view of the bed. He’s looking directly at you, perfectly still but betrayed by a slight flush on his face, he’s holding his glass of vodka in his right hand, his left hand resting lightly on his knee, if you didn’t know him better you might miss the clench of his fist around the cold wet glass, the slight tremble of his fingertips in his lap. He’s enjoying this, you think. He wants to watch. The realisation shoots electricity up your spine and you wonder if maybe he and Richard did have that chat after all.

Richard has finished unbuttoning his fly and is fisting his now free cock in his hand, the waist band of his trousers seated below his bare bottom. No underwear, you realise and you blush. His cock is long and thick and dripping with pre-cum.

He quickly pushes his trousers the rest of the way off, moving away from you briefly to toss them in the vague direction of his shirt before crawling back over you, his eyes roaming, his bottom lip held gently between his teeth. You’re still dressed you realise, and you try and sit up to finish what Richard started and unzip your dress the rest of the way. After a slightly less graceful than you’d hoped wiggle you manage to free the dress from around your shoulders pushing it down exposing your bare chest.

Two light gasps are released in sync from both Richard and Taron as your breasts are released to the open air, your nipples pebbling in the cold of the room and it’d be funny if you weren’t so turned on, so distracted by the matter at hand. Richard roughly pulls the dress the rest of the way down, over your stomach and hips and down your legs, you lift up to help him shuck it off easier and push it to the end of the bed, away.

He peels off your underwear next, you may have forgone the negligee but you’d made sure your underwear was as visually gratifying as possible, but not too expensive given the high chance it was going to get ripped off by one set of strong hands or another. As if reading your mind he tears at the delicate lace, too impatient to wait for it to be rolled all the way down, instead he just rips it like it were paper and tosses the bundle of fabric aside. You gasp at the sensation but you don’t have long to worry about your new exposure before Richard all but dives to the place the lace once was, parting your thighs gently and licking fervidly at your dripping wet pussy.

You arch your back in pleasure as Richard continues his ministrations, adding one finger, then two, stroking the place inside you that he knows drives you wild as he laps at your clit, ravenous. You look over at Taron again, desperate for an anchor as you writhe on the bed, garbled sounds of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘more’ and ‘there’ spilling from your lips.

Tarons eyes are wild, his glass has been discarded, his own trousers partially undone and he’s stroking his cock roughly with one hand, pinching the base with the other to maintain some semblance of control, you’ve always been his favourite view.

Suddenly you are empty again and the loss of Richards’s fingers makes you whimper. Richards face appears above yours, your slick glistening around his mouth, making his lips look decadent and obscene. He situates himself properly between your thighs, lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist as his cock bounces against your pussy. You look at Taron in shock, he nods his assent and you wonder when this little chat took place and just exactly what they discussed.

The look he gives you is both permission and a question. You realise Richard is waiting too, waiting for you to give the go ahead. You may not have been present for the conversation but nothing will happen without your explicit consent.

“Oh fuck, yes please yes” You manage to say and the fact you got so many words out and in an order that made sense is nothing short of a miracle. That’s all Richard needs before he’s pushing against you, the thick girth of his cock opening your lips and forging forward, until he’s deeply seated in your pussy, leaving a pleasant burn and stretch that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

You both let out primal moans at the sensation; the feeling is familiar but foreign at the same time. His smell, the way he moves, the pressure of his touch are all new and unknown, unpredictable. You want to watch his face, beautiful in its pleasure but you find you can’t take your eyes away from Taron. The wild look in his eyes as he watches you lose yourself in his best friend.

He watches as Richard pounds in to you, dragging out sounds from your mouth, each more obscene than the last. You claw desperately at his back, at his strong arms, you were already so close and he feels so good, moving inside you with fervour and greed, kissing and licking at any part of you he can reach.

Before long you feel the pressure inside of you building and its heaven but there’s something missing, something stopping you from reaching the peak you’re so desperate for. Richard is lost in seeking his own pleasure, his rhythm is erratic and paced to the storm in his own mind, he’s kissing and biting and stroking but he’s not with you, not like you need. Taron knows this, he knows the connection you crave, you reach your hand out to him and he moves himself off the chair crouching by the bed, he grasps your hand in his, his eyes boring in to yours, both sets clouded with lust.

“Is that good baby, is he giving you what you need?” You bite your bottom lip hard, nodding your head. It’s so good, you just need, you just need…

“Feel it baby, let go, let go for me, come for me baby, let me see you, I want to see you come so hard” Taron says, an urgency in his voice.

And that’s all you need before the pleasure building in side you crests and the waves roll through your body so deeply you’re sure they’ll spill out of your fingers and your toes. You come hard, clenching around Richards cock causing him to wail with pleasure as you feel him spurt inside you. Your scream is muffled by Richard’s neck as he collapses on top of you, his considerable weight pressing you in to the mattress as he loses control, his body no longer his own for those few glorious seconds.

He finds himself again, quickly pushing his weight up and off you, holding himself above you, leaning down to place gentle kisses on your face with reverence. You kiss him back, giggling as his stubble tickles your cheeks and your nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ” Richard says, gasping. Arms shaking from the strain of holding himself up, his cock still seated inside you, softening slowly.

You look over to Taron who is again back on his chair. His cock is painfully hard, standing straight and proud. You can see the strain in his breathing, the struggle to stay in control. You think he may be seconds away from pushing Richard off the bed and taking you for himself.

“Yeah” You say, struggling to find another word. The tingling is lessening and your breathing is returning to a regular pace but it’ll be a minute before you find your words again. Richard pulls out of you slowly, his eyes focused on the place where you met, watching himself pour out of you.

“Rich, why don’t you come over here and suck my cock, there’s a good lad” Taron says his voice rough, barely restrained.

You see Richard physically shudder at the invitation. You’re barely cognizant after your own orgasm and the words are a shock of cold water on a hot day.

Taron sits stiffly in the chair, legs spread wide, fisting his cock again. He lost his shirt at some point and his trousers are open wide at the crotch giving him plenty of room to stroke himself.

Richard scrambles off you and over to the edge of the bed and its almost comical in its urgency. You roll delicately on to your side facing them, conscious of the part of Richard he left behind running freely between your thighs.

He’s on his knees before Taron before you can blink an eye, then pausing, suddenly unsure. Finally in the position he’s been dreaming about but conflicted about what his friend really wants.

“You sure mate?” He asks gently. Taron is heaving above him and you’re pretty sure he’d let the bell boy suck him off at this point he’s so close to the edge.

“Yes, Jesus fuck Richard, just do it before I come all over your face” He says gruffly. His patience has gone; he’s so hard it’s painful.

You slide your thighs together in anticipation, you can’t possibly be horny again so soon but this promises to be the hottest thing you’re ever seen and your body recognises that even if your brain can’t quite yet.

Richard doesn’t need further invitation, closing his lips around the head of Tarons cock and sucking in earnest. The groan from Taron’s lips is enough to fire your brain in to gear and catch it up with the pulsing between your legs. Tarons moans increase as Richard skilfully licks and sucks up and down his cock, taking him deep in to his throat before sliding it all the way back out until just the tip is between his lips.

“Not gonna last, need to, need to…” Taron mumbles, gripping the sides of Richards head forcefully and fucking his hips upwards, rougher than he ever is with you.

Richard moans at the force and continues his ministrations until Taron can’t take it anymore and with one last gasp Taron comes hard down Richards throat, his moan of pleasure vibrating through you, you stifle your own groan as you watch Richard swallow, the sound of his throat swallowing your lovers seed explicit in the air.

Tarons body collapses back in the chair, sliding down until his head is hanging over the back, his legs having lost all tone flopping gently to either side of Richard who is looking like the cat that got the cream. Richard moves backwards, until his back is leaning against the side of the bed. His breathing is heavy from the exertion of the last few minutes. His head is only a few inches away and you reach out to stroke a hand through his thick brown hair, long since ruffled out of its previously artful display. He hums lightly at the sensation, head resting back giving you better access.

Your beautiful boys absolutely ruined with pleasure. It was going to be an amazing night.

A little while later and you’re lying on the bed with Richard on one side of you and Taron’s head resting against your chest, you’re stroking his hair gently; he’s curled around you like a kitten. After coming down from his own high he saw the desperate look in your eyes and gladly pinned you down by the thighs licking you soundly and deeply until you came all over his face.

“Taron, can I try something?” Richard asks tentatively, breaking the silence.

Taron has barely moved and you aren’t sure he heard until he says “Mmm K” looking up at Richard, eyes wide and trusting.

“Just relax mate, let me take care of you” Richard says moving slowly towards the end of the bed, and behind Taron. You feel Taron tense, suddenly worried about what Richard wants. “Don’t worry love, not that” Richard says reading his mind.

Taron relaxes again before his eyes fly open at Richards’s unexpected action. You watch with curious eyes as Richard places light kisses across Tarons bottom, stroking reverently before parting his cheeks and starting to lick around Tarons hole.

Your eyes are as wide as Tarons, neither of you expecting this. You see Taron gripping the bed sheets with his hands as he discovers the new sensation.

“Oh fuck” Taron manages before panting wildly at the feeling. You watch with rapt attention as Richard rims Taron thoroughly eliciting sounds from the latter that almost make you jealous.

“Fucking hell, Rich” Taron manages, gasping in pleasure. You notice he’s grinding himself in to the bed and aren’t surprised to see he’s getting hard again.

“I told you, you’d like it” Richard says, wiping his hand over his smug grin as he gives Taron a few seconds to relax. “Now about what we discussed…” He says again, mysterious.

Taron looks up in to your eyes; see’s your curious expression. “Would you like to see me fuck Richard, baby? He’s desperate for it…look at him” He says and you do, and he’s right. Richard is practically panting at the thought and the look on his face makes you quiver, sending bolts of electricity through to your fingertips.

“Oh god yes” You say, a shudder pulsing through you at the thought.

“Come on then” Taron says forcefully, his words directed at Richard.

Richard practically scrambles up the bed towards you both before turning over on to his back, resting his head in your lap as you sit yourself up against the headboard. Taron positions himself between Richards open thighs, hips aligned. He pauses to lean over Richard and kiss you, a quick swipe of his tongue deep in to your mouth. He leaves you wanting more as he drops his head down towards Richards, kissing him tentatively at first before deepening it. You watch from your vantage point above, your lover and his best friend exploring each other’s mouths in a long awaited first proper kiss.

They kiss languidly, slow and sweet and dirty. It’s years of affection and lust and love, in a few beats of time. Breaking the kiss Taron sits back on his haunches, he reaches for a condom and a bottle of lube that he must’ve placed earlier at the side of the bed. Richard is left gasping in anticipation.

Delicately and with a look of concentration on his face Taron opens the package and rolls the condom down his pulsing length, he hasn’t used a condom in years but it’s a muscle memory, an action you don’t forget. He adds a coating a lubricant before looking back a Richard, a look of uncertainty where the concentration just was.

“Should I just…” He says with a look of fear and vulnerability on his face. His question is aimed at Richard and he gestures towards Richard’s outwardly spread thighs.

“Ye-yeah, just, nice and slow mate, no rush” Richards replies, his words are as much for Taron as for himself.

Nodding, Taron gently positions himself back between Richards legs, Richard himself shuffling down the bed a little to help align himself better to Tarons hard and probing cock.

Pressing the head of his cock against Richards tight opening Taron grabs on to Richards outer thighs to steady himself, groaning lightly as his cock head works its way to get inside, before finally, excruciatingly, being enveloped by the ring of muscles that allow him entry. He pushes forward with the newly lessened resistance, finding himself deeply seated, his hips pressed firmly against the back of Richards thighs before he realises what’s happening. Two matching groans are released from their lips. Richard wraps his legs securely around Tarons hips and he uses them to nudge Taron forward, a silent plea for him to move.

The movement spurs Taron in to action and he slowly starts to withdraw before pushing all the way back in. Bliss on both faces at the slow but steady pace.

You look down at Richards head in your lap, his face screwed up in pleasure. Watch as Tarons thrusts vary from slow to sudden rapid bursts leaving Richard reaching and grasping for purchase at everything and nothing at the same time.

You soothe Richard, stroke his face and his chest, any part of him that you can reach while he writhes and pants. Finally his hands settle on his own throbbing cock, stroking and clutching at it wildly, desperate to find the release that’s building inside him with every stroke of Tarons cock against his prostate.

“Fuck, yes T, right there, please, please” He whimpers.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come” Taron says, his orgasm shooting through him suddenly. The sensation sets Richards own orgasm off and you’re faced with the two most beautiful men in the world coming in unison right before your eyes.

Then there’s nothing but the sound of panting in the room, theirs and yours as you watch as Taron pulls out of Richard, resulting in a mild groan from the latter. It’s all Taron can do to quickly dispose of the condom before crawling back up the bed towards you, his face blush red and wrecked as he lays down on his side, breathing heavily.

“Just a short nap” Taron pants, his eyes gazing up at you from his supine position. You’re still sat up against the headboard with Richard now collapsed and dozing to your other side. You suspect you look pretty wrecked yourself. “Then you’re next baby” Taron says again, the certainty in his voice betrayed by the look of exhaustion on his face and you smile at him as his eyes fight to stay open.

You delicately manoeuvre your way downwards until you’re lying equally between the two men. Turning yourself to face Taron you stroke his face gently as he succumbs to sleep. It isn’t long before you follow.

***

True to his word Taron wakes you again in the night, his lips following where his hands roam; over your face and down your body, still naked from your earlier activities. It takes you a few moments to remember where you are, who you are, until the shock of feeling searching lips on the back of your neck reminds you. Richard is awake too; his hands and mouth exploring you equally from behind.

They take care of you, just as Taron promised. Four hands, two mouths and two cocks hard and probing taking you to the edge and back again until you finally explode around them before collapsing back in to a deep dreamless sleep, just the right side of tender and blissfully the wrong side of decent.

***

The early morning is cool and calm. You lean over the balcony taking in the view of the city as the morning light reaches through the buildings and delicately bathes the streets below. Richard is standing flush next to you, inhaling deeply on his cigarette before letting the smoke float away above the city as it wakes. You’re both snug and warm in the plush hotel robes; you managed to drag a comb through your hair when freshening up in the bathroom after waking up but you suspect you still look thoroughly fucked and satiated.

You left Taron sleeping to join Richard outside while he smoked but you can hear him on the phone now, the dulcet tone of his voice creeping out through the partially open balcony door. He’s ordering breakfast and you suspect enough to feed an army will be delivered before long.

“Back to L.A. today?” You ask quietly. You know the answer of course. Your own flight is at 3pm, back to London. Back to reality.

“Aye” Richard replies, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out in to the ash tray on the small table to his other side. He turns to you, pulling you closer to him by the lapels of your white robe, the insignia of the hotel embroidered in a delicate gold thread. You might keep this one, a souvenir. You still have the one from New York, its hanging on the back of the bathroom door in the London flat; it makes you smile when you see it.

He brings you in further and you reach up on your tip toes to place a kiss on his puckered lips, plump and moistened with saliva and tasting slightly ashy. You can’t resist making it deeper; sliding your tongue along the seam of his lips until he opens them and caresses your tongue with his own.

You both pull away smiling.

“Thanks” He says and you know it isn’t for the kiss. It’s for Taron and for you and for everything you’ve shared.

“You’re welcome” You say back, eyes light with love and affection for your best friend.

You hear the balcony door open wider and your love, Taron, pushes his way through the lace curtain to reveal himself in just his boxer briefs, his hair wild and unkempt, his sleep rumpled face adorable as his eyes scrunch up at the natural light.

“Oi, no more snogging” He says but it’s amiable. He’s happy. “Breakfast will be here in a minute” He adds holding out his hand to you to guide you back in inside.

You take it gladly, Richard following closely behind.

“Its fucking freezing out there and someone stole my bloody dressing gown” Taron grumbles shoving the door shut behind you all, before giving Richard a stern look only for it to be betrayed by an immediate smile.

“Sorry mate” Richard says jovially, slapping Taron lightly on the back, making his way to the breakfast table.

When breakfast arrives you eat it happily, the three of you gathered closely around the table chatting lightly about nothing of any consequence but of more importance than you could possibly convey.

When Richard leaves to go and pack for his flight home it’s without awkwardness or embarrassment, it’s with sound kisses and strong hugs between all of you.

There’s no thought of next time or of if or of when. You’ll never fully understand what it is between the three of you and for now, you’re ok with that. All of you are.

When Taron takes your hand and asks you if you fancy a nap before your flight, you smile all the way to the bed.


End file.
